


Kare Dare Tsuki ga Fureru (He Who Touches the Moon)

by Crexendo



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, M/M, Mild Language, Multi, One-Sided Relationship, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-12
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crexendo/pseuds/Crexendo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abarai Renji did not expect to be the main character of some cliche 'lost heir' fantasy, but here he was, confused at what he was supposed to do with a title, land, wealth, and a noble heritage he knew nothing about. Thrown like a lamb into a den of lions, Renji is shoved into the web of lies, intrigue and plots that surrounds the Imperial Court, and discovers the existence of a bright and beautiful moon that refuses to acknowledge him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tsuki o Mitsumeru (Gaze at the Moon)

**Author's Note:**

> This story is written from Renji's POV, just so you all know. This first part is kind of short, and I apoplogize, but I will be posting more soon!

The gates were still standing, despite being somewhat charred and soot-stained. The intricate iron seal depicting a Nue demon was entirely intact, and a pleased growl reverberated in the recesses of my mind. _‘. . . This is all so fucked up . . . .’_ I thought as the massive wooden doors swung open in front of me, giving way to the sight of a half destroyed mansion and equally ravened grounds; my ancestral home they’d told me. My guardian spirit, Zabimaru, was certainly pleased with it, it was almost like returning home for him.

“Abarai-sama, the workers will be arriving in the morning to begin reconstruction. The Emperor promises that the Abarai estate will be restored to its former glory in no time.” The young dark haired boy standing next to me said. He was a servant of the Emperor, chosen to accompany me to the remains of the desecrated Abarai House. If I recalled correctly, his name was Rikichi, and in the short time we’d been in each other’s company, the boy had become quite attached to me, leaving me feeling slightly more confused and overwhelmed, if that was even possible.

_‘Only a few weeks ago, I was just another one of the hundreds of lowlifes living in Inuzuri . . . then I go to being the sparring partner of the Crown Prince, and then I find out I’m the cliché long-lost heir of some great noble family . . . . I’d almost rather go back to my little shack by the river and pretend none of this happened . . . .’_

According to the Emperor, my mother, Abarai Akane, had been the Abarai family’s youngest daughter, who, then pregnant with her first child, had been the only one known to have escaped from the manor the night the estate had been attacked, but for whatever reason, she never reappeared, and they of the Imperial court had assumed she’d died, and that the family was lost, hence why the vast Abarai demesne had never been rebuilt until now.

I’d figured that she’d just hidden out in Inuzuri, definitely the last place I’d look for a noblewoman if I were an enemy. Her being the daughter of noble family explained quite a few things, like her obsession with making sure that I knew my surname was Abarai. She never let me forget it, but never gave an explanation as to why she was so insistent that I remember. Now, it all made sense. But my mother had died when I was fifteen, leaving me to finish raising myself in the slums of Inuzuri on my own. 

It wasn’t until that one fateful day, eight years after the death of my mother, that all of this insanity had started.

In all honesty, I blamed the Crown Prince, Kurosaki Ichigo, for screwing my entire life over. If I hadn’t stepped in to defend the orange haired stranger who’d foolishly picked a fight with some of the starving thugs who lived nearby, I wouldn’t have discovered that the orangette was in fact the Emperor’s son, in disguise and on the run from his guards for a short break in his refined, orderly, or in other words, boring life. Ichigo had been thoroughly impressed with my fighting skills, and invited me to come with him to the Imperial Palace to be his new sparring partner. And, like any poor idiot who wanted more out of his life than fighting for daily survival in a dirty slum, I’d said yes.

At first, living at the palace hadn’t been so bad; I’d been well-fed, well-dressed, and given a comfortable room near the training hall, which was cared for by a couple of servants who all bowed when I passed, something that had never happened to me before. Ichigo, though hot-headed and reckless, was fun and lively, and sparring with him was just the challenge I’d been looking for, having gotten bored of beating the same drunken morons who never got any tougher. I got along fairly well with most of Ichigo’s guards and the other members of our usual training sessions, particularly with Ichigo’s favorite, a brash, fiery man with a brilliant shock of electric blue hair and cat-like sapphire blue eyes who went by the name of Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

Best of all, none of them really cared that I was from Inuzuri, most of the guards weren’t noble born either. In fact, at one point or another, most of them had been some sort of criminal. Grimmjow himself had at one time been the most feared of the mountain raiders that had terrorized the low lying villages to the north of the capital city, known as ‘Pantera’, the Panther. Another guard, the sleepy, lethargic but astonishingly observant Coyote Starrk, had once been called ‘Byakuro’, the White Wolf, and had done his own fair share of terrorizing years ago. They’d settled down, after being defeated and pardoned by the Emperor, Kurosaki Isshin himself, and now worked for him, faultlessly loyal and completely at ease with their lives, Starrk seemingly more so than the rest of them.

It wasn’t until I had been in the palace for nearly two weeks that I came in contact with the first person who made me feel the lowliness of my birthplace, and who quickly became the sole source of my heartache and misery. It was that day that I first caught a glimpse of the moon, the illustrious moon that I quickly came to worship and adore. The ruthless, cold moon that never so much as glanced at me with anything other scorn in his eyes . . . .

Kuchiki Byakuya.

He was beautiful, pale, perfect, pristine, and head of the Kuchiki clan, one of the oldest and most respected family in the entire empire. He also served as the Emperor’s Minister-of-War, due to his intelligence and levelheadedness. He headed Ichigo’s personal guard, though he was rarely on duty himself, because of his other commitments, which explained why it took me several weeks to finally meet him face to face.

~

_I waited in the empty training hall for Ichigo to show up; it was weird for him to be late, even weirder for no one to be there already . . . . The shoji flew open abruptly, making me jump, but when I looked in that direction, in the doorway, stood the moon._

_Long, silky black hair, set up in the kensaiken I’d only heard stories about before this moment. Clear eyes of dark silver, eyes that betrayed nothing but a calm serenity that enveloped him. High cheekbones and pale, fair skin, a perfectly controlled expression of blank neutrality that he wore as an unbreakable shield around his thoughts and emotions. The silvery-white silk of the scarf loosely wrapped around his neck caught the soft light coming from the shuttered windows of the training hall. It was almost as though he gave off a soft silvery gleam, a cold radiance that had me hypnotized within seconds._

_His sharp gaze found me immediately, and for a minute, he did nothing but scrutinize me. His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of my tattoos, a slight, severe scowl crossing his expression. A chill ran down my spine at that moment._

_Finally, he spoke._

_“You are the mutt Kurosaki-denka brought back with him from his little escapade into Inuzuri.”_

_The way he said it did not make it a question. His voice was icy and full of scathing disgust, and it made me flinch, a surge of defensiveness flaring up in my chest._

_“. . . Yeah, so?” I muttered, looking away from his harsh beauty, not wanting to see it, for fear that it would captivate me completely, but wanting to see it, for fear that it might end up being a simple delusion._

_“Do not speak to me, mongrel. The only reason I haven’t ordered you to be removed from the palace is because Kurosaki-denka received permission from the Emperor to keep his newest pet from Inuzuri here. If it were up to me . . . I would have not let you within a hundred feet of the gates.”_

__‘Okay, that was uncalled for . . . .’ _I thought, clenching my teeth. “Oh, yeah, and who are you to kick me around?” I hissed. A painful war of emotions was going on inside me, the part that longed to touch and kiss the haunting beauty in front of me, and the other part that was pissed as hell at this bastard’s chilling superiority._

_“I am Kuchiki Byakuya, head of the Kuchiki clan.”_

_I actually took a couple steps back out of astonishment. There wasn’t a single person in the entire empire who didn’t know the name Kuchiki Byakuya. He was every bit as well known as Kurosaki Isshin, Sousuke Aizen, or Urahara Kisuke. Suddenly I was slightly afraid; this man was powerful and known for being cold-hearted and almost cruel to people who came from outside the Imperial court, mostly due to his upbringing, they said._

_“Mark my words, mutt. You may have Kurosaki-denka’s favor for the time being, but do not start thinking that that actually means something. You are nothing. So do not expect anything out of your stay here. Eventually, Kurosaki-denka will learn what is expected of him as Crown Prince, and then . . . you will return to your hovel in Inuzuri. I will see to it . . . personally, if I have to.”_

~

That had been my first encounter with the man, and as much as I hated it, as much as I tried to deny it, as much as I didn’t want it to happen, I was smitten by the light of that icy moon. I still was, despite all the hostility I’d gotten from him. Maybe I was just a dog . . . howling at the moon.

“What do you think, Abarai-sama?” Rikichi’s voice broke through my shell of gloomy reminiscing. He was looking at me as if expecting an answer, and I flushed faintly as I realized that I had no idea what he had been talking about.

“Wh . . . What was that, Rikichi?” 

“I said the Emperor will be holding a festival to celebrate the return of the Abarai house when the manor is completed. What do you think about that, Abarai-sama?” the boy replied happily, unaware that I had blatantly been ignoring his incessant chatter for the past little while as we strolled through the desolate holdings belonging to the name Abarai, surveying what needed to be done to bring it back to its proper order.

Rikichi’s question bothered me, to be honest. I really had no desire to be a great lord. I disdained court life. I’d seen enough of it during my time as Ichigo’s sparring partner, and I hadn’t even been directly involved in it. It seemed unnecessarily complicated and full of hidden agendas and veiled threats. Besides . . . returning to the Imperial Palace meant . . . returning to the source of my misery. 

The ache of longing for Kuchiki Byakuya had lessened somewhat, as I slowly brought myself to terms with the fact that he would never look at me as anything more than a mangy animal, though I had not seen him since before it was discovered that I was the lost heir to the Abarai clan. I did not want to go back to the Imperial palace, even if my friends , such as Ichigo and Grimmjow, and the others were there, even if there was to be a festival in my honor . . . . 

I sighed heavily, letting my eyes slip closed, attempting to push back the hollow feeling in my chest. 

“You know, Abarai-sama . . . as the new Lord of Abarai . . . you now stand even with Kuchiki-sama . . . . You have every right to court him.”

My eyes opened quickly and I fixed the servant boy with a wide mahogany stare, “What?!”

Rikichi, had a very determined look on his face, not a look a servant of the Imperial Palace was expected, or allowed to have. “Abarai-sama, Before, Kuchiki-sama rejected you because of the station of your birth, right? But, as a great lord, he has no basis on which to reject you anymore, right?!”

I was stunned. I had tried my best to keep my attempts at claiming Byakuya’s attention as unobtrusive as possible, more for his sake than my own. “ . . . Rikichi . . . how do you know about that . . . ?”

Rikichi suddenly looked nervous, as if realizing right then what he was doing, and how far out of line he was by palace standards. He paled a bit, and looked down at the broken stone path we had been walking on. “I . . . well, I . . . it’s . . . it’s common knowledge in the palace. Everyone knows about it . . . but no one says anything to Kuchiki-sama, or to you . . . Abarai-sama.”

_‘Great . . . now I really don’t want to go back to the Imperial Palace . . . .’_


	2. Tsuki Ni Hoeru (Howling at the Moon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renji resigns himself to his fate, and learns the truth behind Byakuya's coldness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a lot longer than the first one. I hope you all enjoy it!

The Abarai clan’s family crest was the Nue. An ancient demon that brought destruction and illness in all the old stories. However, with the Abarai, it historically stood for survival against such disasters, and from what I’d read about the history of the noble family, the name was apt and true.

But, regardless of what it once stood for, the Nue was the entire reason I’d been recognized at the lost heir of the Abarai clan. The Emperor told me, among all the other things he said, that in the Abarai family, the guardian spirit of the Nue was one of the few spirits that were hereditary; it always rested with the head of the family. Zabimaru was that Nue spirit, which explained his happiness at returning to the ancestral lands of the Abarai. The feeling of returning I’d felt from him was real, it really was like returning home for him.

Since I was a child, Zabimaru had been a constant presence in my life, but had always cautioned me not to give away his existence, because it could put me in danger. So I never spoke about him to anyone, though looking back on it, I was pretty sure that my mother knew. She had to have known.

A guardian spirit is, more or less, exactly what it sounds like. It’s a powerful spirit, a being more accurately, that was bound to protect and serve a single person, to the best of their ability. They could hold a physical form for a time, provided that their wielder had enough strength to support the ability, and all of them were ancient, depthless and wise. Vastly intelligent and powerful. Not everyone had them. They were mostly restricted to the nobility and the royal family. 

It wasn’t so much that it was illegal to have a guardian spirit and not be from a noble family, it was just that it almost never happened. And if it did . . . then you had yourself a one way ticket out of poverty and despair, straight into an exponentially more comfortable life as a guard or an assistant to some noble. I knew that all throughout my childhood, but Zabimaru knew the danger of me being discovered as the lost heir of the Abarai, and always cautioned me against it. And it was a mistake that led me to reveal him in front of not only the Crown Prince, but the _whole goddamn Imperial Court._

Again, I blamed Ichigo for all of this. It was his idea to have a match after the celebratory banquet for the Tanabata festival, as way to entertain himself and the rest of the crowd.

He **had** to get his father, the Emperor, to approve of the fight. He **had** to point out that Byakuya was there, watching our every move. He **had** to goad me until I was so pissed off at him, I snapped. And he **HAD** to cheat by using his guardian spirit, Zangetsu, and his fucking power to make himself fucking impossible to catch. Only later did I learn that he was goading me because he knew I had a guardian spirit and was trying to force me to call upon it.

Enraged at Ichigo’s blatant brashness, infuriated that he would be insulting me like this in front of everyone, in front of _Byakuya_ . . . . I didn’t think twice before I lashed out with Zabimaru’s power, sending Ichigo flying until he was caught by Zangetsu. Seething with rage, I didn’t realize what I had done until Zabimaru’s wild consciousness brushed mine, and his (very solid) snake-tail curled around me protectively. _‘Renji . . . .’_

I blinked in astonishment then, and looked around. Everyone was staring at me and Zabimaru, eyes wide and full of a sort of shocked nervousness. The Emperor though . . . he was grinning at me and talking excitedly with his advisors, Urahara and Shihouin, for some obscure reason. The entire banquet hall was stirring with murmurs of shock and disbelief. _‘Shit . . . did I just do what I think I did . . . ? Zabimaru . . . !’_

“This is wonderful!” the Emperor called, rising from his throne, still smiling at me. “Our prodigal son has returned to us!”

“…What?” I’d echoed, confused as hell.

“Ladies and gentleman, noble members of the Imperial Court, I present to you the lost heir of the Abarai House; Abarai Renji. Lord of Nue Castle.” Kurosaki Isshin said boldly, coming up to me and grabbing my shoulders. Had he said anything other than what he just had . . . I would have been extremely embarrassed and in awe at being touched by the Emperor of Tengoku himself. But as it was, the only thing I could do at that point was stare at him, speechless. 

Nearby, Ichigo had gotten back up on his feet, looking as surprised as everyone else. “Dad . . . . What are you talking about?”

“Your friend here . . . is the lost heir of the noble house of Abarai. Twenty two years ago, the Abarai family estate, Nue Castle, was attacked by raiders, and the entire family was slaughtered. But it was discovered that the youngest daughter, Abarai Akane, recently married and pregnant with her first child, managed to escape. For years, we searched for Akane-san, but we never did find even a hint of her whereabouts, nor did we ever learn the fate of her unborn child.” Kurosaki Isshin was saying, his dark gaze never leaving me, as he looked me over. “Renji. Abarai Renji. You are the son of Abarai Akane, are you not . . . ?”

That was my mother’s name . . . so I nodded, my voice still out of my reach.

“Then you are the Lord of Abarai.”

That was it. The final nail in the coffin. Everything else was too much of a coincidence. My red hair, an Abarai family trait, the fact that my surname was Abarai, and Zabimaru, the ancestral guardian spirit passed down from generation to generation through the bloodline of the Abarai. All of it confirmed that I was who they said I was, no matter how much I’d wanted to deny it all, no matter how much I just wanted my rather peaceful life as an orphan from Inuzuri who’d caught the favor of the Crown Prince by chance.

What happened after that was mostly a blur to me. I didn’t really want to remember it all. I remembered being moved from my modest room by the training hall, to a whole suite of rooms in the wing reserved for the royal family, being suddenly spoken to by those I considered to be my friend with reverence and awed respect. The Emperor informed me that he would pay for the restoration of the Abarai estate, which I would be taking a tour of after a three day long series of introductions to almost every minor and major noble I hadn’t already met. I could tell that most of them didn’t trust me, much less like me any, though I was hardly surprised.

After that, I’d been assigned a flock of servants, which was when I’d met Rikichi, and a troupe of guards, and then my procession to the Abarai estate had begun.

Which is where I found myself today, overseeing the repairs I knew nothing about. It seemed that my job as the Lord of Abarai was to stand around and look important, for all I knew about proper court etiquette. I didn’t much care for what was going on around me, but more and more in the past few days, I found myself thinking about Byakuya, my bright, cold moon. I wanted to see him, even if he still hated the sight of me. 

Maybe Rikichi was right . . . maybe now, now that I was indisputably a noble lord, he would actually look at me . . . . It was worth a try. Just one last try. If he still despised me . . . then I would give up. The last thing I wanted was to cause Byakuya (or anyone else) any problems. I loved him too much for that . . . and maybe that was too selfless of me, but I . . . honestly didn’t know what else to do at this point.

My life was no longer my own. My destiny had been suddenly wrenched out of my hands, and the heavy mantle of the leadership of a noble house had suddenly been placed on my shoulders. I unexpectedly had people looking up to me, relying on me, expecting me to be some great lord and warrior. I couldn’t let them down . . . however much I wanted to just disappear. 

I resigned myself to this new existence. I would become the lord everyone was looking for, even . . . if it meant that I would never get what I wanted. Even if the moon I so worshipped chose never to smile upon me.

~

The festival, officially called Nue no Henkyaku, ‘Return of the Nue’, was to last an entire five days. It was ridiculous, really, but . . . this was the Emperor we were talking about. Over the course of the past month or so, since coming to the Imperial Palace, I’d gotten to know the Emperor a lot better, on a much more personal level. The people respected him and revered him as a wise and generous king. But I don’t think any of them would have guessed that most of the time, the great Emperor of Tengoku was an absolute imbecile. 

I don’t say ‘imbecile’ in an insulting manner, Kurosaki Isshin is truly wise and generous, but . . . only when he truly needs to be wise and generous. Most of the time he acts like a fool. He’s always trying to (lovingly?) attack Ichigo, who immediately dodges and lets his father crash into a wall or the floor, or the orange haired prince kicks the Emperor out of his way without a single ounce of remorse. Still, the man doted on his children, particularly his twin daughters, Ichigo’s little sisters, Yuzu-hime-sama and Karin-hime-sama.

They two girls were officially presented to me on the first night of Nue no Henkyaku, so I got to meet both of them, as well as their guards. Ayasegawa Yumichika was soft, sweet Yuzu-hime-sama’s personal guard, a elegant, quick witted man with a very defined sense of aesthetics. He and the pale haired princess seemed to get along well, unlike the bold, hot-headed Karin-hime-sama and her guardian, Madarame Ikkaku, who argued constantly and were always trying to one up the other, even though they both had a perpetual gleam of amusement in their eyes while they were doing it. I suspected they were like Ichigo and I, abusing each other because it was fun, and nothing we did or said was meant to be truly hurtful.

It was a shame that I’d never get to meet the Empress. Kurosaki Misaki, the late Empress of Tengoku had been known as an extremely beautiful, kind, and intelligent woman. I was told she had passed away from an illness some months after the twin princesses had been born. I would have liked to meet her.

But at this festival, there was really only one person I wanted to see. Byakuya . . . my radiant white moon, draped in the shadows of the night sky. I searched for him, but I kept getting interrupted by various lords, ladies and a plethora of other people I wasn’t familiar with. They all congratulated me and introduced themselves. There were so many of them I didn’t have the slightest hope of remembering them all, even if I had been paying full attention to them. I wanted to see Byakuya, but . . . so far, I hadn’t caught even a glimpse of his proud, onyx-haired, silk-clad form anywhere. I was beginning to get anxious.

I finally managed to break free from the swarm of people who wanted to know me, and looked around for people I actually knew and liked. Ichigo was frolicking through the crowd, obviously leading a flustered looking Grimmjow, and an excited looking Neliel (another one of Ichigo’s guards) on in a merry game of tag. Starrk had found a comfortable spot under a wisteria tree in one corner of the palace gardens, and was apparently asleep, while his little sister, Lilinette, was running around with the two princesses. 

At last I spotted Urahara Kisuke and Shihouin Yoruichi sitting together nearby, with the dark skinned woman’s head laying atop Urahara’s lap as he stroked her hair, leaving her looking incredibly relaxed and comfortable. 

Shihouin Yoruichi was the leader of the Imperial assassins, and I only knew that because Ichigo had offhandedly told me so one day, though I quickly figured out that was some kind of court secret. She was beautiful, as far as women go, with dark skin, long violet hair and bright amber eyes. She was faster than hell, and liked proving it by teasing people until they got mad enough to try and attack her, and then she darted away, and, as Ichigo teasingly added, “Her favorite target is Byakuya.” I’d be the first to admit that I had a hard time imagining Byakuya as one to lose his perpetual icy coolness because of that cat-like woman.

Even thought Yoruichi was playful by nature, she was ranked as one of the empire’s most dangerous warriors, as well as one of the Emperor’s personal friends, and the lover of Kisuke Urahara. The eccentric, rather unpredictable man was the Emperor’s best friend, most trusted advisor, and also a skilled fighter in his own right, if you ignored the fact that the man was completely and utterly insane.

I didn’t know the two of them on a personal level, but I did know that they, of all people, would probably know where Byakuya might be. I approached somewhat hesitantly, and Yoruichi greeted at me with a stare that reminded me of a cat; part interest, part amusement.

“Weeeeellll, if it isn’t the man of the hour himself! You look flustered,” Urahara practically cackled, “Looking for something?”

“It’s more like someone, Kisuke.” Yoruichi purred from her position on the green-clad man’s lap. “Isn’t that right, Abarai?” she added, flashing me a small, though slightly wicked smile.

“Ooooooh, you mean Kuchiki-kun, right?!” the pale haired advisor smirked up at me.

I hadn’t even said anything and the two of them knew exactly what I was doing and who I was looking for . . . . Honestly, they scared me at that moment, but my desire to find Byakuya was greater than the apprehension I had about talking to these two.

I nodded tersely, “Have you seen him?”

Yoruichi grinned this time, “Byakuchi doesn’t much care for parties, but his sense of duty to Isshin, and his pride as the head of the Kuchiki House won’t let him skip out on this entirely. He’s probably in a more secluded area, avoiding most of the crowd, and you. Try deeper into the gardens. He likes flowers, particularly sakura blossoms.”

I tried not to flinch at the statement about avoiding me, “Thank you, Shihouin-dono. Urahara-dono.” I said, bowing politely to them, my mind and heart already racing down the quiet garden paths to where my moon might be waiting.

“You need to loosen up, Abarai-kun. You can drop the honorifics. We’re all about the same rank now. No one is going to punish you by talking to us without titles.” Urahara said, his dark eyes glittering in the light of the hundreds of paper lanterns strung across the courtyard. “You can just call me Urahara. Urahara-san, if you must. And Yoruichi . . . you can just call her Yoruichi-san.”

“I . . . Ah. Alright, then . . . Urahara-san . . . Yoruichi-san.” I said hesitantly. It was still weird to think that I was now on par with those great lords and ladies I’d only heard stories about until just recently. I’d have to get used to it. “Thank you again . . . .”

I turned to leave, but the sound Yoruichi’s voice stopped me.

“Be careful with Byakuchi, Abarai. He’s pretty fragile.”

Surprised, I turned back, “What?” 

Yoruichi pushed herself up onto her elbows, gazing at me with a strange intensity in her bright gold eyes, “Byakuya wasn’t pushing you away just because you were some punk from Inuzuri.”

“He . . . He wasn’t . . . ?” I echoed softly.

“You mean, you haven’t heard the story of Kuchiki Hisana?” Urahara asked, sounding faintly astonished.

I shook my head, I’d never heard of Kuchiki Hisana, but obviously, she was someone important, and part of the reason Byakuya kept rejecting my advances.

“Hisana was Byakuya’s wife. She was from Inuzuri, she and Rukia. But Byakuya fell in love with her, and married her against the wishes of the elders of his clan, but . . . seeing as he is the head of the family, there was really nothing they could do about it.” Yoruichi said slowly, her tone very direct, something that didn’t happen often.

I was speechless. Byakuya . . . had a wife? Why had no one told me when they all realized I was interested in him?! It occurred to me that no one had told me because they’d purposely wanted to hide it from me. But why . . . ?

“Sadly, they didn’t get much time together, just three years. Hisana died last spring.” 

Oh. That was why.

“Byakuya was devastated, and he still hasn’t started acting like himself again . . . . He’s still closing himself off from everyone else. Even his little sister can’t make him smile anymore.” The violet haired woman finished softly.

Pain stabbed at my heart. I had been careless. Selfish. Thoughtless. I had been chasing him, without knowing anything about him. His wife died less than a year ago, and here I was, a callous Inuzuri brat, trying to force my affection on him when he clearly wasn’t ready. He was still hurting . . . . 

“Don’t get discouraged, Abarai-kun. Kuchiki-kun needs someone to love him. Someone to help heal him. Just keep at it, but give him some time. He’ll come around eventually, you’ll see.” Urahara said reassuringly, smiling like he meant it.

I . . . was not so sure. But, if anything . . . I did want him to know that I was here for him, if he ever needed me. Murmuring a farewell, I turned away again, and slipped quietly into the crowd, making my way towards the gardens, ignoring anyone who called out to me. I had to tell him at least this. Maybe he wouldn’t accept it, but it was the truth. I would be here . . . if he wanted me. But no longer would I try and press him. It wasn’t fair to him, who was still grieving over a beloved wife.

But I still wanted to try.


End file.
